MISPLACED
by xX69-JEREMIKE-69Xx
Summary: It's another long cycle of night and day for poor old Fredbear, years after being scrapped. From where he lies quietly in the spare parts room, he suddenly comes to the realization that he is missing something important.


_**AUTHOR'S NOTE: geldin freddu loosez his mlg mike**_

 _ **if u don liek 1v1 me m8 ill rek ur walrus**_

 _ **Written by Admin Torm**_

Darkness. Silence. Loneliness.

Sitting alone in the farthest corner of the supplies closet, he waited. No one came to visit him. No one remembered him all that well. He hadn't any friends, though he supposed that was something he had in common with his new partner. They didn't speak to each other; they couldn't. The child he harbored inside of him had never made a friend in his life, whether he was alive or dead, and the same went for Fredbear. Or, as he was nicknamed now by some of the newer staff, Golden Freddy. Jeremy and Fritz feared him, however, although he supposed that was natural. And he was okay with it.

Sometimes Jeremy liked to joke and call him Goldy or Goldy Locks, by which his cleverness was rewarded with Fredbear nearly ending his pathetic life using his rather superior abilities. The depression that accumulated later hate and cold desire for revenge seemed to fuel the child's spirit far more than the other animatronics' spirits. He was able to not only control Fredbear, but turn him into a phantom altogether at will. This allowed all kinds of disturbing abilities, including the power to create intense hallucinations, and upon successfully spooking the target, could become real to an extent and kill the victim.

Tonight, things were a little different. Fredbear had lost something important to him, something he swore was practically burned to his suit's paw: his microphone. He glanced at the clock on the ceiling. Yes, the ceiling. Because somebody was a complete fucking idiot and decided to install a ceiling clock that hardly worked in the first place. Not only that, but they installed it in the _fucking spare parts room._ Who was stupid enough to do that? Probably the same person stupid enough to just waltz in and steal Fredbear's microphone. Coincidentally, Fritz was working again tonight.

It was 12:10 A.M. and the seventh night of what would be Jeremy Fitzgerald's week at Freddy's. However, he was fired and, as mentioned before, Fritz was thrown in as a temporary replacement. Why he was fired, Fredbear didn't really know. He heard something about "tampering with the animatronics"; probably trying to yiff the fox. Seriously, why did almost all the employees try to do that? Foxy was even in storage now and they _still try to yiff the fox._ He's not even fucking _attractive_ , damn it.

Anger from these thoughts, as well as the cold, sweaty reminder that his microphone was missing, rose like the white liquid in a man's lower region when violently penetrating a female (or Foxy, apparently). Rising from the floor without any real bodily movement because he was too lazy to actually use his legs considering he had mlg pro Xx_phantomrekkindildo_xX no-scope powerz, he Buhda'd his way out the door before casually teleporting into the office. There was no real purpose in even floating I guess.

There he sat in the hallway doorway or whatever the fuck to the office, where Fritz Smith sat. He hadn't seen Fredbear yet, staring instead at the camera views on his tablet. Fredbear took this opportunity to hide briefly by going invisible, which was also a thing he could do at will for whatever reason. Phantoms are cool, man. They get all the magic shit.

The two waited, waiting for something to happen. Surprisingly, despite the usual tendency of animatronics to get more active as the nights went on, tonight was very uneventful. Fritz stayed on guard, but not a single animatronic dared to enter the hallway or vents. And although Fredbear couldn't see it, when Fritz checked the cameras it turned out that no one had moved from their original positions at all.

12:45 A.M.

Fredbear appeared, tired of waiting. Whether Fritz took the microphone or not, it was time for his end. Appearing by the desk, the golden bear stared with empty sockets, mouth gaping, as whispers began to echo in the room. Fritz, however, paid no mind, instead spinning in circles in his swivel chair while staring at the ceiling. Irritated, Fredbear was about to let loose one of his signature screeches when suddenly a tablet was smacked into his face.

"BACK, DEMON. RETURN TO THE DEPTHS OF THE THIRD FLOOR WITH YOUR TWELVE PENISES FOR I DO NOT WISH TO FORNICATE WITH YOU NOW OR EVER BECAUSE YOU LOOK LIKE SOMEONE PISSED ALL OVER FREDDY AND I CAN'T DEAL WITH THAT SHIT MAN. I CAN'T DEAL WITH THAT SHIT."

Fritz was screaming at the top of his lungs while Fredbear just sat there in confusion.

What the hell was he talking about? Fredbear didn't even have genitals. Or, at least, he didn't think he did. He never actually checked. Glancing at the trembling Fritz, Fredbear turned himself magically around a moment, tilting his head downwards. That's when it happened.

Twelve giant microphone-shaped penises sprung from beneath his metal parts, sending the pelvic region of his animatronic body spiraling into the hallway, where it slammed into the Marionette, who had been peeking in from the very back despite the music box still wound up. The peni aggressively flailed through the air, like some kind of fucked up Japanese hentai. Then, like a helicopter, they began to spin rapidly in a circular motion, lifting Fredbear involuntarily into the air before ragdolling him down the hall and once more slamming into the Marionette on the way out of the building entirely.

He was never seen again.

Also it turned out his microphone had gotten lodged into his metal pelvis and slipped into the black hole to a hellish dimension there, causing it to grow into a giant penis beast consisting of twelve penises. Or maybe he just left it somewhere in the spare parts room, whatever. I guess that was possible too.


End file.
